


Service

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Bo-Katan and Pre Vizsla take a moment for themselves.





	Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandumbandflummery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/gifts).



"With me," Pre says, and Bo-Katan follows obediently as he leads the way back to his rooms. They've taken over this section of the palace as their own. She wants to scowl under her mask at the soft luxury surrounding her, but a smaller place inside sighs wistfully, remembering the comforts of her childhood home, a bed deep-piled with quilts, thick rugs that grasped her toes, and the kind if distant love of her parents surrounding her and her siblings.

The past slaps her as she steps into the room behind him. This suite is austerely gorgeous, and she knows without a doubt that this is her sister's bedroom. Was. They have purged Mandalore of Satine's well-meaning weakness.

She removes her mask, slamming it onto the surface of a fine vanity. Pre has already thrown himself on the bedspread, the dirt of his armor grinding into the white fabric.

Bo-Katan narrows her eyes at him. "Did I say you could do that?"

"I rule Mandalore," he replies, rubbing his cheek against a pillow. "I say what I can do."

She approaches him, the click of her boots muffled by the cushioned rugs. Weak. "I think you've forgotten your place."

He turns one eye to her, as if to dismiss her, then reads her intention on her face. His own face flushes, pinking against the white. His lips curl. "I am in my place."

She grabs the neck of his armor, dragging him up before she elbows him in the throat to shove him down again. She pulls the blow, knowing full well that if she doesn't, she'll kill him. The goal of this has never been to injure. Pre coughs, and he glares at her, but under the glare is need. He has declared himself ruler of Mandalore, but he longs to be ruled.

Bo-Katan is nothing if not loyal to her leader.

"You're filthy. How dare you contaminate this fine fabric with your dirt. Remove your armor."

"You could help me remove it," he says, silencing under her stare. "Yes, ma'am." Swiftly, Pre unfastens the pieces of his armor, and when she points at the pile he's making on the floor, he collects the pieces and sets them aside on a dresser.

"Go bathe," she tells him. "You reek of the battlefield." Honestly, she finds the rich tang of war-earned sweat intoxicating, but she wants a few minutes to think while he's in the refresher adjacent to the bedroom. There's been precious little time for that lately. She fears they've rushed into this demon's bargain too quickly. She worries about the motives of their so-called allies and the resources of their enemies. This time alone with Pre will settle his mind and her own, allow them to plan out their next steps.

Idly, automatically, she opens drawers, peering without seeing into the places her sister has kept hidden. Jewelry and frippery are useless, although she pulls out a lacy-edged confection for future use. Beside the bed, she finds what she didn't know she was looking for. Of course.

Pre returns from the refresher, body red from scrubbing, his eagerness obvious as his prick bobbles in front of him.

"Kneel."

He obeys, his knees enjoying the soft carpet he'd otherwise descry as more evidence of sybaritic excess.

"Remove my boots. Be quick about it." 

His hands find the fastenings to her boots. He lingers over each one, sliding his fingers between the leather and her hot skin before tugging the boot away. Unrequested, he pulls down the thin stocking she wears on each foot to prevent foot sores, and presses his lips against each ankle as it is revealed, sending shudders up her legs.

"I said be quick. You've been far too slow."

"I know." There's a devilish spark to him even like this. He likes to see where he can go, and what will get him slapped down.

She considered making him wear the lacy thing she found. Instead, she balls it up in one hand. "Open."

He pulls back at first, but she grabs the back of his head and shoves the cloth into his mouth, taking care not to push back into his throat. He can breathe easily through his nose. He watches her, clearly wondering if she'll bind his arms.

"I need your hands," she answers the unasked question. "Remove the rest of my armor, and this time, don't dawdle."

He stands and sets to work, and with the gag, he doesn't pause to kiss the skin he reveals. She wonders if his saliva will make it thick and damp in his mouth, if he can taste some lingering salty-sweet trace of her sister on her clothing as he drools.

Bo-Katan yanks the fabric from his mouth and drops it to the floor. He chokes in a gasp of air before she pushes him back to his knees and forces his head where he can taste all the salty-sweet he can lap up. 

He's good. For all his selfishness and single-minded devotion to his own ends, Pre Vizsla has always been generous with his mouth and tongue and fingertips when they've been alone together this way. He's eager to please her, eager to be useful to his mistress, eager to give her satisfaction before she relents and gives him his own.

Come to think about it now, his tongue buried deep inside her, this is just another face of his selfishness. "Disappointing," she says out loud and pushes him away.

Shock passes over his face. He is a creature of ego, and he knows well how to drive her to her peak. She was close, his face says. Why won't she let him finish her?

"On the bed," Bo-Katan orders him, and quickly he climbs onto the lush comfort of Satine's bed, back pressed against her white pillows, ready for her to climb atop him the way she likes.

He does make a pretty picture outlined in lace and silk. There's something to be said for these luxuries.

"On your stomach," she tells him, and after a moment of confusion, he complies. She grabs two of the pillows and shoves them under his belly, lifting his rear. Not as pretty a picture, she must admit. Some men have bottoms made for admiring and grasping. Pre does not.

She's kept her discovery tucked away behind Satine's many hair accessories, and now she brings it out, keeping herself directly behind him to hide her intent. Her sister keeps this sweet and shameful thing by her bedside. Bo-Katan doesn't want to think about stuck-up Satine moaning as she pretends her Jedi thrusts between her legs, writhing in her lonely bed at night, but that image isn't going anywhere.

Satine's oily beauty lotions are just the item she needs to make this complete, slicking the phallus along the thick shaft. Never injury. Only enjoyment in relinquishing power.

Her forefinger presses against the crack of his behind, drawing a gasp. It's his only warning before she touches the tip against him and starts to push inside. Pre swears and jumps. She swats him. "If you move, this will hurt. Push back and it won't. Your choice."

He's on hands and knees, groaning as she shoves into him. Against his instincts, she can see him bearing down on the phallus, opening himself. Bo-Katan smiles grimly. "Good choice."

She guides the phallus in and out of him as he grunts. She's considered doing this to him for a long time, but the middle of the wild and the heart of a battlefield are hardly places to find plasticized rubberino in the correct shape, and she'd never worked up the courage to ask for one at a trading post. Some of the other Nite Owls did and had, making quiet noises in the night in their own tents, or better yet, another's. Tonight she savors her long-delayed enjoyment, taking note of the fresh sweat breaking out on Pre's body as he nears the edge.

"That's enough," she says, and removes it, wiping the thing against the white bedspread. They'll ruin these sheets and blankets thoroughly, she's sure. "Roll over."

His eyes are wild, cock hard as a rod for her. He's closer than she thought. She rests her hand on the hot, stretched flesh, which twitches under her touch. If she strokes him now, he'll squirt all over himself and the bed.

Bo-Katan rolls away. This bed is huge, needlessly so for her unmarried sibling, who dared take no lover. Bo tells her own lover, "You may lick me again."

He falls to his work, crouching between her thighs. Now he's desperate, aching to get off and clumsy in his attentions. He bites at her clit when she needs him to rub, and a finger that should massage her inner walls instead strokes quickly for wetness before sliding uncomfortably into her ass. She grabs his hand, shoving it away before she pushes his head back.

She slips out of the bed, grabbing the phallus again. A few drops of the same slick lotion are all she adds before sliding it back inside him with a smooth motion. Pre whines in his throat, begging.

Bo returns to her supine languor. "Continue. And be careful."

He's dying, surreptitiously rubbing himself against the blanket as he dips his mouth to her. Foolish. He knows if he comes before she allows, he'll be punished. That might be his game tonight, wanting blunt pain along with his pleasure. She refrains from commanding him to stop, instead resting against the plump pillows, relishing the clever flick of his tongue against her, and the vibration he makes when he groans, suckling at the engorged nub.

Her hands stray, teasing one of her own nipples idly. There are nights when she only permits him to stroke her breasts, feeding at her like an infant while he wriggles in unsatisfied frustration. She gives the orders, and he takes them, here when they are alone.

It's what they both need.

She arches, riding into the sharp peak as he pushes her over. She lets him lick her clean before shoving his face away again.

"Good. On your back."

Once again he gets into the position they both enjoy best, the bright pink phallus still between his legs, bumping into him hard as he adjusts his position. She gives it a few tugs and pushes, enjoying the changing expressions on his face, before she takes one long lick along his awaiting shaft. He's leaking, desperate, and as she grabs him, slipping him inside her, she feels him tense up, too close to the edge. Bo-Katan holds still, feeling him deep and warm in her body, waiting for him to regain the last of his control.

"Finish me again," she tells him, and begins to ride. His wide eyes stare into her as his hips thrust, his face naked as she reads there the sensation of the toy inside him when he moves, her body tight and wet around him.

Fingers numb with his own pleasure, he presses his thumb where they join, drawing a hiss from her. She's extra sensitive after her first peak, sometimes too sensitive to find a second. Her hand joins his, and there! "Now," she orders him.

Bo rides him hard, quaking, and enjoys as he shudders into her.

"Good boy," she tells him, when the last of the shivers have passed. She pulls their bodies apart, leaving a mess on the covers. Before she heads into the refresher, she takes careful hold of the toy still inside him, gently tugging it free and tossing it to the floor. She bends to place one kiss on his still hard but shrinking prick.

She hasn't seen much of this place, and the simple, elegant lines of the refresher surprise her. More white, of course. That's never been her color.

She returns to the bed with a wet cloth, taking her time to wipe him clean. He's still sensitive, and he jumps and starts as she touches him, stilling the movements with smiling kisses after she's done. She drops the cloth to the floor. The blanket's a mess. The rug beside the bed is a mess. She's got her eye on a deeper rug beside the large fireplace, and she decides that after they've rested, she will drag him over there and make love to him properly, just as they do in his tent after their first fires are slaked and his mind is calmer from the structure of her command.

Pre slides under the cool sheets, and Bo joins him. The bed is too soft but she'll make this sacrifice for now.

"We need to plan," he says. "Now that I'm in power, I have many changes to make."

"I know." This is just the beginning.


End file.
